My Guardian
by iluvedward
Summary: When you loose someone close to you life is hard. Response to IsabellaMarieCullen3214’s challenge. Disclaimer: I own nothing, it belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Rated T just incase. One-shot.


_Author's Note: This is a new story I was working on. It is a response to __IsabellaMarieCullen3214's challenge. I want to thank her for giving me this idea. Enjoy the story! –Alex. P.S.: this is a one shot, and if you are wondering about some things about Bella, she is a vampire, and her power is has to do with remembrance and memories. You'll figure out why her power is that later on. _

**My Guardian**

I doubt there are words that can describe my pain right now. It is pain that consumes your entire being, and makes it unable to move. I had had a taste of this pain a so many years ago, but this time it was intensified by a thousand.

It was now knowing, truthfully, that **he** didn't exist in a world where I live. That **he** will never come back to me. I now I have to wander my immortal exist alone, with the family that **he** left behind. That alone was too much to bear. That alone made me wish that I was still human, and could shed a tear. I know that **he** would want me to be happy, but it's so hard.

"Bella, honey it's time to go to the funeral," I heard my adoptive mother, Esme, say. I knew what she must have been going through, she had lost one of her children.

I only stared back vacantly in reply. However, I still got up, and walked towards her. I was wearing only a simple midnight blue dress, a dress that I knew **he** would have loved on me. God, it just hurts to think of **him**.

I heard Esme say, "There that's better," but I wasn't really paying attention to her.

As I walked down the stairs in the Cullen's home, I saw all of the others look at me with pity in their eyes, like that would bring **him** back. Nothing would, and I had sort of accepted that. The only way I would ever see **him** again was to take away my own miserable life, but I know **he** wouldn't want that. **He **was the one who had always to told me to keep myself safe. I can still remember that day almost fifty years ago, when **he** had written _Be Safe_, in **his** elegant script on a note, left in my car. I still had it. 

As we rode to OUR meadow, that was where we had decided to bury **his** ashes, (though it was more **his** than mine) I thought about all of the memories that we had experienced together. Our first meeting, (only which I had found out later on, that the loathsome glares were because my blood was tempting **him**, and not because **he **had hated me), the first time we kissed (I nearly attacked **him**), meeting **his** family, my lullaby, James, the prom, when **he** left (that one was stilled pretty painful), **his** return, fighting side by side with the werewolves, **his** proposal, our wedding day, and so many more.

I remembered** his** features clearly, because my memories, unlike those of petty humans, will never fade. I remember the way** his** odd, bronze hair had shone in the glorious sunlight. The way **his** skin sparkled like many tiny diamonds in the sun, **his** eyes, which were liquid pools of topaz. **His** family's and my eyes are similar, but they will never be the same as the pools a butterscotch that held so much emotion and depth in them. They weren't the same eyes that I had fallen in love with.

Most of all, I remembered **his** dazzling and intriguing personality. A personality like **his **was something that you could never forget. It was that special, that unique, and I missed it dearly.

There will be always one memory of **him** that will haunt me for the rest of my life. It was the night **he** had been killed. This memory will forever stick in my mind even though I didn't want it there. It was too haunting, too painful, and if I could have nightmares, I would have them about that night.

I won't go into detail about IT, but a stray werewolf had killed **him**, while we were sitting alone in OUR meadow. To think I had ever been friends with one, loved one, made me sick, sicker than you can even begin to comprehend or imagine.

The werewolf had killed out of spite for what we are, not because we had bitten a human, or done anything wrong. The Quillettes had gotten over my transformation years ago, but this, this was a rogue werewolf, who had killed out of pure LOATHING for vampires. **He** had died because **he** was protecting me, little old, insignificant me. God, how I wish **he** hadn't dome that. And now I guess that he really was my hero, more times than I can count.

We were at the meadow by now, and I was quietly holding back that tearless sobs the threatened to break through me.

As we reached the headstone to pay our final respects, I saw the whole family go through different stages off grief. I saw Esme, the mother of our coven, sob as if she had lost her blood-related son, and in many ways **he** was like that to her. I saw Carlisle, the head and father of our coven, hold back his emotion and try to keep himself strong for the rest of us. Though I sense that inside, he was heartbroken.

I saw my pixie-like best friend and sister, Alice, break down and cry, tearlessly. She had lost a brother and dear friend. I saw Jasper, her husband, try to keep everyone calm and stable, though I knew he was anything but that, and his task at hand was extremely difficult, especially with all my emotions. He had lost a brother. I saw beautiful Rosalie, share a few sobs, she had lost someone she had known for a while, and who shared her hobby for cars. I saw the deadly strong Emmet stare blankly at the gray headstone. He was the one who had destroyed the wolf, after it had killed **him**. He had lost a younger brother.

I knew they had all seen me too, dealing silently with my own grief. And I, I had lost a lover, soul mate, and best friend. I had lost my life, my reason for existing.

In many ways we were all affected by **his** death, in one-way or another. We had all lost something out of it. We had each lost a brother, friend, son, and lover. And we knew that we would never get those things back for a while.

"Bella are you coming with us?" asked the tiny distressed pixie.

"No, Alice. I think I'm going to stay here a little longer."

After I had said that, I had seen the sadness in their eyes. But they knew I wouldn't try anything stupid.

I sat there and stared at the gray gravestone, which had an engraving of a piano on it (how **he** loved **his** music; no one played the piano in the house anymore, no one had dared to). The Inscription read: 

_Edward Anthony Masen Cullen. Born June 20, 1901; Died July 18, 2048. Beloved Son, Brother, and Husband. We miss and love you. R.I.P._

Of course we would have to change the year he was born, before we left this town, but for now it was staying that way. I finally allowed my self to sob tearlessly.

As read the tombstone over and over again, it started to rain, and I made me feel like I was actually crying. It made me feel human, something that Edward had always longed for. I miss him a lot, but I know that we will see each other again.

As I thought that, the sun began to shine, and it made me sparkle brightly. I couldn't help but feeling that the sun's appearance had something to do with Edward. He knew I loved the sun and its warmth. 

I lay there in the meadow for a while, and just as I was about to leave, I heard a voice. It was my Edward's voice.

"Be safe, Bella, and remember that I will always love you," it said, before it disappeared. 

And as I was running through the forest, I knew that he would always be with me. He was my guardian angel, and I knew he was in heaven. He was finally where he belonged.


End file.
